


In the Woods there Grew a Tree

by RedVoid



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Angor Rot is a mom, Being raised by Trolls, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Magic, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedVoid/pseuds/RedVoid
Summary: The sounds of heavy footsteps crossing the foliage of the forest reached Angor Rot and he quickly took a step back, hiding behind a tree-trunk as his eyes followed the sound. The dim, orange light of an oil-lamp began to show in the distance, growing brighter as the intruder advanced through the forest. Angor Rot clenched his fists, observing as a figure finally broke through the trees and into his line of sight.He thought he’d find a soldier, an assassin, a mercenary. He had readied himself for the moment the human lord would send his people after his.But standing there, wide-eyed and tear-stricken, was a woman. She held the lamp high in her left hand, while her right arm was bent at the elbow; a large basket hanging from it. And from that basket… giggles.
Relationships: Angor Rot & Original Character(s), Skrael & Original Character(s)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 61





	1. Basket

**Author's Note:**

> Now, I have no idea what to say other than Angor Rot pre-Morgana sucking his soul gives off strong maternal vibes and I couldn’t help myself. He deserved better and we all know it! He would have made an AMAZING addition to the Trollhunters and they killed him because they were cowards! 
> 
> This was supposed to be a one-shot thingy but I lost control of myself so I'm turning this into a multi-chapter fic. Pairing-wise I have something in mind but it's very far-off and mostly platonic so I won't go in details for now.
> 
> Enjoy this little crack-bit I wrote because I’m a hyper-fixated simp for everyone in the ToA series, but Angor Rot (and Skrael) specially. :)

_“This child is cursed. You must rid yourself from it. At once.”_

_“My lord, she’s but a baby, never hurt a soul!”_

_“You saw what she did! It was… troll magic. For all we know she’s one of their shape-shifters, planted as a baby, just waiting until it’s time to kill us all.”_

_“That’s impossible! During the two seasons she’s lived she has never been out of my sight.”_

_“Trolls are sneaky, you know it well. Get rid of it. Don’t make me repeat myself.”_

_“You’d order me to kill your own daughter?”_

_“That thing is no child of mine! Measure your words, else you regret them. You ought to do as I say.”_

_“But, my lord-”_

_“No excuses! Either you put an end to this creature or I will. You have until the break of dawn. If I see or hear this child tomorrow, you both will be sorry. Do I make myself clear, wife?”_

_“… Yes, my lord.”_

* * *

The nights seemed to grow ever shorter, and still they exhausted him to his core. Being a leader had never been a light burden on his shoulders, but ever since Gunmar declared war against the humans his responsibilities became heavier by the nightfall.There was too much to be done in too little time: perimeters to be run, wards to be cast, trolls to reassure, others to interrogate.

All to keep the Gumm-Gumms at bay. All to keep his people safe and cared for.

Not only the Gumm-Gumms. With Gunmar spreading his violence and chaos, the humans have become more aggressive as well. I cannot allow them to find our village.

Angor Rot sighed as he set yet another protective ward. He was so tired, and there was still a long way to go before sunrise called him back home. He believed it would be another uneventful, if tiring, night for him. 

But the Spirits had other plans for him.

High, bright giggles reached Angor Rot, followed by the sounds of heavy footsteps crossing the foliage of the forest. He quickly took a step back, hiding behind a tree-trunk as his eyes followed the sound.

The dim, orange light of an oil-lamp began to show in the distance, growing brighter as this… intruder advanced through the forest. Angor Rot clenched his fists, observing as a figure finally broke through the trees and into his line of sight.

He thought he’d find a soldier, an assassin, a mercenary. He had readied himself for the moment the human lord would send his people after his.

But standing there, wide-eyed and tear-stricken, was a woman. She held the lamp high in her left hand, while her right arm was bent at the elbow; a large basket hanging from it. And from that basket… giggles.

Angor’s hands relaxed, and he dared to sneak his way closer to the pair. _What is this woman doing here with a baby? The woods are not safe in the dark._

The woman in question glanced down at the bundle in her basket and smiled in heartbreak. Slowly, as if she was handling crystal, she lowered the basket and the lamp to the ground before reaching inside the basket.

Gently she pulled the baby from it, humming softly as she hugged the small creature to her chest, tucking its fleshy cheeks against the crook of her neck. The baby’s giggles peaked for a moment before gradually subsiding, until the little thing was fast asleep in the woman’s arms.

The oil-lamp’s soft glow illuminated the scene for Angor Rot’s eyes alone, and from his hiding place he witnessed as tears flowed constantly from the woman’s eyes as she held her baby.

She seemed to whisper something in the child’s ear, before tucking it back in its basket. Once the child was settled, the woman reached for her lamp and stood back on her feet.

When she looked ahead of her, Angor Rot was there.

“What are you doing, human?”

Her eyes widened in a fear Angor knew all too well as she jumped back. But she didn’t scream, and she didn’t run. His gaze moved from her teary eyes to the basket, catching a glimpse of plump cheeks and a red nose peeking through layers of blankets.

“P-Please…”

Yellow eyes snapped back at the woman’s tear-stricken face. She wore her agony and despair clear as moonlight, just as he did his exhaustion and anxiety.

“Her name is Charo. Please, keep her safe.”

Angor Rot stepped back as if burned, eyes widening in shock as he stared at the woman. 

Before he could say anything, she shed one last tear and ran away.

“Wait!” Angor Rot called out, taking a blind step in the woman’s direction, and his foot caught on the basket in front of him, toppling it over with the baby in it.

Immediately the little creature began to cry. The high-pitched sound was heart-breaking and for a moment Angor forgot all about the woman as he rushed to pick up the little creature from the floor.

“Oh, shush.” He whispered, trying to mimic the rocking motions the woman had done before to calm the baby. However his movements were brusque, clumsy in his strength and mild despair.

The baby didn’t fall silent as he had hoped, but soon its wailing morphed into the warm giggles he had heard before.

Angor furrowed his brow, slowing down his movements as he balanced the tiny creature on the crook of his elbow. Curious, the little thing reached out, stretching chubby hands out to him, giggling uncontrollably. 

“Are you not scared, little one?”

Despite the voice in the back of his head screaming warnings to him, he reached back to the tiny thing, allowing it to close its unbelievably small fists around the tip of his index finger.

Angor Rot felt a sudden rush of warmth invade him at the contact. He was unable to describe how full he felt at the moment, as if a new breath of life had invaded his living stone, pushing his fears and anxieties to the side and making room for a new type of joy in his core.

He smiled, yellow eyes completely fixated on the bundle in his arm. WIthout meaning to he began to hum as he bent his knees to retrieve the basket from the floor and continue to set his wards.

_How could the woman abandon this little one here?_

Humans were confusing to Angor Rot, foolishly afraid of anything they didn’t understand. That was why he kept his people away, hidden from them. As their leader, he was responsible for them.

And now, he was responsible for this little one as well. She was his to protect and care for.

His little Charo.


	2. Bump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter as well! Let me know what you think. ;)

It didn’t take long for Angor Rot to figure out why the humans had abandoned little Charo in his woods. True to their fearful nature, they got rid of anything they did not understand and, without a doubt, the tiny baby was far beyond their comprehension.

In days like today, Angor thought she was beyond his understanding as well.

“How are you doing this, little one?”

Angor watched the baby giggle happily as she clapped her chubby hands, her big eyes fixed on the colourful stones floating in circles above her head. She was sitting over a little foliage bed he had woven for her, making him company as he carved totems for defence. To this day all the previous ones had gone unused, absorbed back into Nature without need to birth any golems. But it didn’t hurt to have some of them handy, just in case.

Hearing his words, Charo lowered her gaze to him. Those eyes glanced at his moving hands before raising to his face. A smile was quick to tug on Angor’s lips and the baby gurgled in happiness, letting her body fall forwards so she was ready to crawl towards him.

Her distraction caused the magic holding the colourful rocks in the air to disperse, and Angor Rot leaped, dropping his totem and knife on the ground so he could hook his hands under the baby’s armpits and pull her up just in time to keep the rocks from hitting her on their way down.

Charo’s giggles ceased as Angor held her close, a disapproving frown on his face.

“Da?” She mumbled, tiny hands reaching out to lie on his stone cheeks. “Da!”

“Don’t ‘Da’ me. You need to be careful, little one.” Angor scolded, even though his frown eased into a reluctant smile. “What am I going to do with you?”

The baby smiled at him and Angor felt that increasingly familiar warmth in his chest. Little Charo exhausted him to no end, but she never failed to make him indescribably complete.

“Come on. It’s time for your feeding. I need to milk the goats.”

“Da!”

* * *

Charo’s feeding was always an event in Angor Rot’s village. Trolls stopped what they were doing to watch their leader patiently spoon-feed goat's milk to the little human. Some watched with mirth, cooing at the scene and drawing close to pinch the baby’s soft cheeks, while others stood further back, observing the scene with disapproval in their eyes.

Angor Rot was keeping an eye on those trolls - a literal, all-seeing eye - but thankfully they showed no intention of taking matters in their own hands. For now, at least.

“Oh, my Spirits! Angor Rot, you’re- glowing!” 

Angor chuckled as his core glowed, a gentle blue light escaping through the areas of his body that lacked his outer layer of living stone. Sometimes little Charo’s magic did that; it reached out to his own energy and made it pulse with life, telling him she belonged there with him, completing him.

“At ease, my friend. This is just another way little Charo plays.” Angor Rot drawled, raising another spoonful of milk to the child perched on his knee. “It’s rather delightful magic.”

The startled troll dared to step closer, reaching out a finger to poke the baby. Charo’s curious eyes moved towards him and she quickly forgot all about the spoon being offered to her. Clumsily, she grabbed his stoney finger, giggling as her magic flew into the troll, soft and playful.

The troll’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, before he relaxed into the unfamiliar sensation. He felt something akin to warmth in his stony insides and quickly moved closer, taking a seat at his leader’s side to keep playing with the tiny human as he fed her.

Angor Rot chuckled at the scene, once again raising the spoonful of milk to Charo’s mouth. As the little girl took the wooden spoon in her mouth, his yellow eyes drifted to the displeased trolls hanging afar and he smiled at them, hoping that was proof enough they did not need to worry about the baby.

They exchanged mixed glances amongst themselves before bowing their heads to their leader and walking away.

* * *

Years passed.

Gunmar’s force grew across the continent and tales of his clashes against humans and trolls alike continued to spread terror within Angor’s people. Not only that, the human lord who lived outside the forest continued to expand his land, sending soldiers increasingly closer to the borders of their hidden village.

More than once Angor Rot and his people had to move further into the woods to avoid being detected by the human lord and Gunmar’s soldiers, and he knew it was a matter of time before they forced him to take action.

 _War is coming._ Angor thought grimly, yellow eyes fixed on the horizon. The sky was slowly gaining that deep purple colour that signalised dawn was close. _I must be strong for my people_.

With a sigh, Angor Rot lowered his gaze back to Earth and retreated into the large cave behind him. After a few twists and turns through narrow stone passages, he found his people going around their business around their village. This new home they made for themselves was simpler than the one before, houses built of wood and leaves instead of stone, but it was well-hidden inside a deep, underground cave.

“Dad!”

Angor Rot smiled, turning to greet his little Charo with a hug. The girl readily accepted the gesture, running into him and squeezing him tightly around the waist. Not letting go, she raised those big, bright eyes to him, but there was a frown on her lips instead of the cheery smile he was so used to seeing.

“You left without me!” She accused. “You promised you’d take me along when you went out to set the wards, so I could practise.”

“Well, I went to your room to call you but you were sleeping so soundly I couldn’t bear to wake you.” Angor explained. “You’re a human child, and you need your sleep.”

The girl sighed, pulling back to cross her arms over her chest. “You should’ve awakened me.”

Angor chuckled, laying a heavy hand to ruffle her messy hair, but stopped himself when he saw her flinch in pain as soon as he made contact.

“Charo. You have something to tell me?”

The girl’s eyes quickly moved away from him, dancing around the village as she looked for anything else to focus on. “No?”

Angor frowned, hooking his hands under the girl’s armpits and carrying her to a nearby tall block of stone. He perched her atop of it, and slowly examined her head, gently running fingers through her hair until he found a bump on the back of her skull. Despite not putting any pressure on it, the little girl flinched in pain again.

Angor Rot scowled, staring down at Charo. The little girl was twirling her thumbs in front of her, face lowered to the ground.

“I was… Uh, I fell.”

“You fell. On the back of your head?” 

“Yes. I was… I was… Hmm... I was swinging! I mean, rocking! I mean, I was rocking the chair as I studied and fell backwards!” She spurted in a high-pitched voice that gave away her lie. “I know you told me not to do that. I’m sorry, dad.”

Charo was looking everywhere but at him and Angor Rot was having none of it.

“Look at me, Charo.”

The little girl sighed and slowly raised her eyes, but before they could reach his own her gaze widened, frozen on something behind him. Angor Rot quickly turned around, finding one of his people glaring back at the child. As soon as the troll noticed Angor’s gaze on them they looked away, quickly marching out.

Angor Rot clenched his fists, turning back to Charo. The little girl had a forced smile on her lips as she put on her best innocent face.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked.

The smile fell off of her face. “No, of course not.”

“Charo, don’t lie to me.”

“I-I’m not… They didn’t actually hurt me or anything. It was my fault really. I was running around, playing with the gnomes and slammed into them.” She said. “I fell down hard, that’s all.”

Just as she said that, a couple of gnomes jumped into view, looking angry as always. One of them pointed at Charo, putting a toothy smile on his face. He ran in circles twice before going towards the other gnome, who stood with a frown on his face. When the grinning gnome was close enough, the frowning one reached out and pushed him down.

Angor’s eyes widened for a moment, before going back to the child who was staring accusingly at the gnomes. “They pushed you?”

“It was nothing, dad. Please don’t make a big deal out of it.” She pleaded in a small voice. “I think I startled them.”

Angor sighed, rubbing a hand over his face harshly. This was not the first time he came back to the village to find out some of his people had mistreated Charo in his absence. While most trolls around cared for the girl _almost_ as much as he did, some still had a hard time accepting her and took whatever opportunities they could for petty tricks like that. He had had a few talks with his people in the past, but still they found these tiny, cruel ways to go behind his back.

There was a tug on his hand and when Angor looked down, little Charo was staring up at him with regret. 

“Dad, I’m sorry I worried you.” Slowly her magic reached out to him, easing his anxieties if only for a moment. “But I’m fine, really. It was just a bump.”

Despite his anger, Angor smiled and pulled the girl up again, perching her on his shoulders as he knew she liked. Immediately she grabbed onto his horns and let out a stream of childish giggles.

“Come on, little one. It’s time for your breakfast.”

“Oh, can I have eggs? And bread with moss jam?”

“Hmm… I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yes!”

Angor chuckled and his core stone glowed with Charo’s magic. He looked down at himself, at the pieces missing from his body for a moment, and he had an idea.

_Hmm… I’ll see what I can do._


	3. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, now we have a part three for this thing...
> 
> Did I finally figure out what I’m doing? Not in the slightest! But writing this little family-drama with mom Angor Rot sparks lots of joy in me, and I hope it does the same for someone else out there. :)
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy and let me know what you think of it! :D

Angor Rot was whistling a little song for himself as he carved a large totem by himself. He had been working on this particular golem for almost a whole moon now; it was an ambitious project that took much of him - literally. He even took to wearing a leather vest while he healed from the large chunk of living stone he had to tear off his chest to build this totem. While little Charo had grown used to his missing pieces, an area as big as the one he took this time was bound to worry her.

The little girl was out with Veena, a female River Troll who sometimes visited their village. Like all River Trolls, Veena was elusive, preferring the solitude of her soft waters to the busy village, but she came around every once in a while to check their market and play with Charo. Ever since she was a baby, Charo had won over the kind troll’s core - much like she had done his - and she always loved to go explore the riverbeds with her.

It took Angor some time to get used to it, but after eight years he grew to trust the River Troll to care for Charo as he would. It was good for the girl to learn how to swim and fish, and Veena was the best instructor there was. Also, it allowed Angor some much needed time for himself. 

Which he was using to build Charo a Golem.

Wizards have familiars to help them and keep them safe. Magic as she is, why can’t Charo have one?

Angor couldn’t go around looking for a dragon or chimera for the little human, but he could do the next best thing. He could carve her one from his own living stone. A piece of him to keep watch over her when he was not around.

With a final slash of his knife, Angor was done. Smiling, he raised the large totem to his eye.

It was in the shape of a crow, as big as his head. Angor had carved the totem in great detail, imbuing as much of his magic as he could, be it in the form of runes he wrote all over it or in the warm piece of his core stone he had put inside it.

Satisfied with his work, Angor Rot made his way deeper into their cave. A while ago he had found a large deposit of corundum stone in their home. It was a good, hard stone.

It would make perfect flesh for Charo’s familiar.

* * *

The moon was still high in the sky when Veena brought Charo back to Angor Rot’s village. The little girl had a head of soaked hair and a big smile on her face as she ran inside the cave, clumsily carrying a fish that was almost as tall as she was. She had fished a large carp tonight, and she was eager to show it to Angor and ask him to cook it for her.

More slowly because of her enormous size, Veena followed the girl inside. The Troll Village was mostly safe for Charo, but, like Angor, the River Troll still didn’t like to leave Charo anywhere but under her guardian’s care. As Venna reached the edge of the village Charo was already halfway across it, the large fish’s tail leaving wet markings on stone as it dragged over the ground.

“Dad!” Charo called out, even though Angor Rot was nowhere in sight. “Look what Veena and I caught! Dad!”

Excusing herself with little grunts, Veena tried to carve a way for her among the trolls around, watching Charo’s shape grow smaller the further she got from her. It was a good thing she was a River Troll; her height allowed her the advantage to watch over the little girl at all times.

And from that advantage point she saw, clear as day, a troll stuck his foot out in front of the little girl. Fast as she was, and with the large fish impairing her sight, Charo tripped over it at full-speed. Veena let out a disgruntled noise as the little girl let out a startled scream and took flight. The troll tried to charge forward, but she was much too large and Charo was much too far for her to reach her before she hit the ground.

However, out of one of the cavern’s many tunnels something flew by. Speedy and sleek as a shadow, it darted towards the girl, grabbing the back of her sweaty shirt and hauling her up in the air.

It was a sort of... crow. But made of stone. The creature cawed once, bright blue eyes looking down at the little girl in its talons as it gently lowered her to the ground.

Wide-eyed, Veena moved faster, and when she reached the little girl, she was staring at the creature with wonder in her big eyes. Hugging the fish to her chest with just one arm, she reached a hand towards the creature. The crow perched itself on her arm, butting its small, stone head against her softly. Its eyes seemed to glow even brighter at the touch.

Charo let out a delighted giggle, turning bright eyes to Veena. “Veena, look! I made a new friend!”

The River Troll made a disgruntled noise and pulled Charo in her arms, away from the creature. The stone crow didn’t seem to appreciate it, flying in front of her face to caw accusingly at her. Veena made to swat the thing away, but her arm was held in place by none other than Angor Rot.

“It’s alright, Veena.” The troll leader said as the craw settled on his shoulder. “This is my creation.”

Slowly, Veena relaxed her arms, allowing Charo to poke her head out of the protective hold.

“It’s okay, Veena!” She spoke happily. “It’s my friend! I can feel it!”

Angor Rot chuckled, and with a nod from him, Veena lowered the little girl to the ground. By now, the entire village circled them, observing the scene.

As soon as Charo’s little feet touched the ground, the crow was back on her, this time perched atop her head. It chirped once, satisfied with its spot, and the little girl giggled once again, eyes crossing as she tried to look up at it.

“His name is Corvell.” Angor Rot spoke, yellow eyes scanning all the trolls around them. His next words were loud and clear; not meant only for Charo. “I’ve carved him from my own living stone and core for you. From now on, Corvell will be your familiar. To watch over you when I’m not around.”

“That’s so cool! Nice to meet you, Corvell.” Charo spoke. Then, remembering the large fish in her eyes, she turned back to Angor Rot. “Look what we caught, dad! It’s a carp, a big one! Can we cook it tonight?”

Angor nodded, taking the fish from Charo’s struggling arms. Then his eyes moved to Veena and he smiled gratefully. “Thank you for taking care of Charo, my friend. Will you stay a little longer with us?”

Veena looked from the leader’s calm eyes to Charo’s hopeful ones and shook her head. Crowds were not for the River Troll, no matter how small they were. She much preferred the peace of her rivers and lakes.

Charo pouted, walking to hug one of her legs. “When will I see you again, Veena?”

Veena made a circle full in the air with her index finger, and Charo smiled. “Alright, next full moon. Thank you for playing with me today.”

The River Troll nodded once before walking away from them. Charo never stopped waving as she watched her leave, and even Corvell cawed twice in goodbye.

Angor laid a large head atop her head, disturbing the stone crow from its rightful place. Despite being literally made from his living stone, Corvell still cawed unhappily at the troll for his affront. It seemed one touch of Charo’s magic and the little golem was already molding its own personality.

“Now you’ll go bathe, little one. You smell like fish.”

“Yes, dad.”

* * *

The trolls who distrusted Charo still found ways to try and pick on her. The mean eyes, the hurtful words and the occasional shoves still continued but, while the little girl didn’t fight back, Corvell did. And the golem - familiar Charo would tell herself, giddy with happiness - had eyes as sharp as his creator’s. He’d fly on the face of any troll that said a bad word to Charo and caw loudly at them until they left. Anyone raising a hand to “accidentally” stumble against the girl and he’d be there first, pulling her back by the shirt and out of harm’s way before pecking the offender’s hand away.

The little girl didn’t like her familiar’s combative nature, more often than not pulling it away from the offending troll as she exclaimed apologies over her shoulders to them. Charo couldn’t blame them for disliking her. She was human after all, and more than once humans drove them away from their homes with their unquenchable thirst for power and land. She was young and didn’t understand much, but she understood that humans were cruel and selfish.

Humans had abandoned her, leaving her to die in the woods as a baby.

“Not that it matters anymore, right Corvell?” Charo spoke. Corvell and she were at the cavern’s entrance, playing stones as they waited for Angor Rot to finish his assembly with the other trolls so they could go set wards around the forest. “I love it here. I have dad and you, and Veena. Most trolls here are so nice too, especially when I give them my old socks to eat. Even the gnomes play with me sometimes. I’m better here than I could ever be at a human village.”

Corvell chirped his agreement as he flew in circles above Charo. The little girl smiled, using her magic to make hoops of stone in the air for her familiar to fly through. It was a little game that improved Corvell’s agility and Charo’s skill with magic.

“Charo? Are you ready, little one?”

The little girl lost her focus, and the hoops fell into pieces in front of her. Sighing at her lack of control she turned around to see Angor emerge from the cavern’s entrance with an oil-lamp in his hand. Hopefully she’d do better with setting wards.

“Yes, dad,” She said as Corvell lowered itself to fly closer to ground-level. “Corvell and I are ready.

Angor smiled and stretched his free hand for the girl to take it.

Hand in hand, they walked into the dark woods.


	4. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally have a bit of action to get the juices flowing!  
> Hope you all enjoy it, and if you have the time let me know what you think about this. :)
> 
> Also, there's a little... "postscript" for this chapter that I should post in a couple of days, so keep your eyes peeled. ;)
> 
> Kisses,  
> RedVoid

It was during Charo’s fourteenth Winter of age that her life was first, truly at risk.

Snow had been falling for days around the woods, blanketing the ground and leafless trees with a thick layer of white. The weather was unforgiving: the sun hid behind grey clouds, lakes froze, animals died of cold and Charo… Well, Charo ran off to play with Corvell around the forest.

Despite the cold, the wet boots, the frequent sneezes and Angor’s worries, Winter was Charo’s favourite season of all times. Mostly because humans didn’t dare venture into the woods during it, much preferring to stay inside their homes in the village, warm and cosy in front of their hearths. So, at least for this season, Charo had freedom to explore the edges of the woods during daytime, when she could actually see where she was going.

Angor Rot didn’t like it, but he knew better than to forbid her of going out. He could only imagine how hard it was for the girl to live most of her life underground, surrounded by trolls that were decades to centuries older than she was. From observing humans, Angor knew that sunshine, fresh air and playmates were of great importance for a child, and it pained him that his little Charo had to go with very little of each.

So he wrapped the little girl in thick layers of pelt, wool and cotton, put thick water-proof boots on her feet which he knew would get soaked either way, and warned her to run back home at the slightest sign of danger - be it humans, unfamiliar trolls, wild animals or even the weather.

“Remember, if your toes feel numb-”

“It’s time to come back.” Charo finished, big eyes peeking through the small gap between her wool cap and scarf. “I’ll be careful, dad. I promise. Now please let me go, I’m already sweating in here.”

Angor sighed and nodded. Charo ran into him for one last hug before she and Corvell took off from the cavern without a glance back. He watched the little girl disappear in the snowy scenery with anxiety clawing at his chest. Yellow eyes looked up at the sky; covered in grey clouds, no sunlight peeking through.

_Maybe I could go with her. If this weather keeps up, the sun won’t be a problem._

Just as the thought crossed his mind, someone in the village called out to Angor Rot and from the high-pitched outrage in the voice the troll leader knew it was some sort of Gnome trouble. Again.

With a sigh, Angor went back to his village, hoping little Charo wouldn’t be long today.

* * *

On that day, Charo and Corvell picked a single direction and followed it as far as they could, hopeful that they’d find something new and exciting in their forest. As to not lose herself, Charo dropped little pebbles infused with magic that would shine if she ever needed guidance to return home.

As they moved, they played their little games. Charo used magic to mould all sizes of hoops to Corvell to go through, and in turn the familiar dropped tiny sticks and pine cones for the little girl to dodge. Then they changed play, and the golem took to dropping larger things: rocks, branches, and even the icicles that had formed on the tree branches for Charo to hit with magic-infused rocks.

Charo’s magic had grown with her and, under Angor Rot’s tutelage, she had learned how to control it well enough for a child. Her affinity was in controlling minerals, especially rocky formations, and she was becoming proficient in using it to throw stones at targets with ever-increasing accuracy and enough power to pierce through thick layers of stone. She still had a hard time controlling large quantities of rock at once, but she was slowly improving. Angor had also taught her how to cast protective wards, but the little trick with the shining pebbles was of her own making, something that came naturally to her after watching her father glow one too many times when they were together.

So far, Charo and Corvell’s exploration was proving unfruitful. Around them there was nothing but snow and barren trees. She hadn’t as much as seen a single hare bounce by, and her little hands were starting to hurt from the cold.

“Oh no!” Charo looked down at her feet. Her boots were several shades darker from melted snow and when she wiggled her toes inside it, she could barely feel the movement. “Corvell, we need to go back. I can’t feel my toes.”

The stone crow landed on her feet and pecked her right toe. Charo jumped back in fright, falling on her butt in the snow. “Alright, I felt that.” She told her familiar. “But now I’m all wet.”

With a lot of effort, Charo pushed herself back on her feet, the many layers of clothes around her feeling even heavier now that they were partially wet. Charo noticed her body was shivering, and it unnerved her.

“W-We’re too far from home.” She breathed out, rubbing her arms. She recognised nothing around her. “I have no idea what part of the forest it’s this.”

Corvell sensed her distress and flew to her shoulder so he could rub his stone face against hers reassuringly. He chirped once, nodding at the snow-covered ground in front of them, reminding her of her little pebbles. Feeling calmer, Charo smiled shakily and prepared to release her magic and reveal the way home.

“Oh my god, what is a child doing here?”

The little girl jumped in the air, hand flying to her shoulder so she could grab Corvell and hide him under her thick coat. For once, her familiar didn’t protest at the rough handling.

“Little one, are you alright?”

Charo slowly turned around and found a woman staring at her. The stranger was tall and sturdy, with a crooked smile on her round face.

“What are you doing all alone in these woods? In this weather?” The woman asked, advancing towards Charo, who took two steps back for each step of hers.

“P-Playing.” The girl responded, voice shaking from something other than cold.

“Playing? And where are your friends?”

“Close.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at her and, for some reason, Charo felt threatened by the gesture. “Really? Where? I can take you to them.”

Charo swallowed, her back hitting a tree. “T-There’s no need.”

“You look lost, child. But don’t worry,” The woman said, bending at the waist so her toothy smile was all Charo could see. “I’m here to take you _home._ ”

The woman’s eyes changed colour as a glowing red took over her sclera, morphing her gaze into two balls of fire. Charo opened her mouth to scream, but before any sound could come out, a heavy frame ran into the stranger and sent her flying. Charo shrieked in fright, wide eyes raising to find none other than Grekyl standing in front of her. Grekyl was one of the village’s trolls, tall and wide, living stone the colour of moss and antelope horns sitting atop of his head. He was also the troll who hated Charo the most.

Grekyl’s glaring eyes cut to her and before Charo knew what was happening, he hauled her up in the air, an enormous fist clenched at the front of her coat. Corvell flew under her clothes, cawing loudly as he beaked Grekyl’s head.

“I knew we couldn’t trust you!” The troll snarled, swatting the stone crow away. “You little spy!”

“What? No!” Charo protested, kicking her feet in the air. “I would never!”

A cruel chuckle came from beside them, and both troll and human craned their neck to see what it was. The woman was on her feet, staring at them with glowing red eyes.

Grekyl growled and dropped Charo to the ground. “Impure.” He snarled.

“So it’s true. Angor Rot has been keeping secrets from Gunmar.” The woman said. “Have you become friends with fleshbags now? That’s why you’re turning your back to your kind in this war?”

Charo gasped, eyes widening as the woman shape-shifted in front of her. Her body grew, bones and muscles morphing into orange stone. “What’s happening?” The girl asked, exchanging looks with Corvell. “She’s a troll?”

“Not a troll. An impure. A dirty, two-faced Gumm-Gumm spy.” Grekyl answered with disgust. “She’s a changeling.” Then he glared down at Charo. “Barely a step down from a fleshbag like you.”

The girl ignored his last comment and pushed herself to her feet, letting her scarf drop to the snow in the process as she took a defensive stance. “What now, Grekyl? We can’t let her find the village. Gunmar can’t know where we live.”

The troll’s eyes widened, taken aback by the girl’s words, and the changeling used his momentary distraction to pounce. She rammed into Grekyl, making him fly in the air, and immediately turned to Charo with a clawed hand ready to strike. The little girl froze on the spot, but Corvell grabbed the back of her coat and pulled her back just in time to avoid the blow.

“What’s this now? A golem?” The changeling snarled, glaring at the stone crow who cawed back at her, ready to fight.

“Corvell is my familiar!” Charo protested. Then, remembering her self-defence training with Angor, she shot out her leg and swept the changeling’s feet from under her. Corvell was already high in the sky, ready to take on speed as he flew down in a straight line to slam into the fallen creature’s stomach.

Enemy stunned for the moment, Charo ran towards Grekyl and grabbed his hand to help him to his feet.

“What are you doing, flesh bag?” The troll asked, dark green eyes narrowed. “Why are you not running?”

“I can’t leave you.” The girl gruntled, pulling with all of her might to get the large troll to stand up. Corvell helped too, pulling the troll up with his talons. “Come on.”

Suddenly Grekyl jumped to his feet and next thing Charo knew he had pushed her behind him as he blocked a kick from the changeling. The large troll was pushed back by a series of blows, and Charo had to jump to the side to avoid being trampled on. 

With some space for herself, Charo focused on her magic to pull pieces of rock from the ground that were as big as her head. Despite the cold, she found herself sweating as she tried so hard to launch the heavy projectiles towards the changeling. Her efforts paid off as one rock hit the creature’s face full-force, stunning her long enough for Grekyl to get some punches in. One, two, three and once again the creature was flying away from them, this time completely knocked out.

Human and troll breathed hard as they tried to catch their breath as Corvell perched himself atop Charo’s head, chirping in celebration. Grekyl glanced at the girl from the corner of his eye and found her cross-eyed, trying to look at her familiar. Feeling his gaze on her, Charo looked back at him, smiling that silly smile of hers, that always made Grekyl grunt in annoyance. Then her eyes widened as she raised her hand in front of her face, magic overflowing from her fingers with such force it made her glove fly towards the sky. Grekyl startled and followed the glove with his eyes.

The sun was peeking through the clouds in the sky.

Grekyl shut his eyes tightly, waiting for his body to freeze in cold, hard, _dead_ stone, but nothing happened. A moment passed before he reopened his eyes, finding a wide plate of stone casting a shadow over him. When he looked back, the human girl was gritting her teeth, both hands tense in the air as she held the stone plate with her magic. She glanced up at the sky and whimpered.

“The clouds are gone.” She said, examining the barren trees around them. She looked scared. “There're no shadows around.”

Grekyl saw sweat sprout all over the girl’s face as she tried so hard not to let go of her magic. Not to let him die.

“Don’t move, Grekyl.” Charo said, hands trembling. “I’m going… I’m going to try something. Corvell, help me keep the plate steady.”

The familiar chirped and landed on the stone plate, talons digging into it deeply. Corvell was too small to support the plate by himself, but he could help keep it into place as Charo tried to divide her attention for a second spell, chanting words under her breath. 

“ _Kamuk Slusham Moya Obadete Se. Kamuk Slusham Moya Obadete Se. Kamuk Slusham Moya Obadete Se…”_

It stunned Grekyl into stillness, watching as rocks rose from the snow all around him, up and inwards, circling his gigantic frame and building a narrow but sturdy shelter to keep him safe from the sun. His shelter had no openings, but from the soft thud that reached his eardrums, Grekyl knew the girl had dropped on the ground in exhaustion. He heard Corvell caw loudly in despair, and then those cries grew in volume and urgency. Grekyl scowled, anxious at not seeing what was causing the familiar such distress, and next thing he knew something heavy slammed against his rocky protection.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the changeling tore a piece from his rocky wall, revealing red eyes and a taunting smirk to him. “I’ll be taking this fleshbag with me.” She said and from the small gap she had made he saw the girl’s limp body under the changeling’s arm. “Sit tight now.”

Grekyl growled, an unspeakable rage burning inside of him and, to his and the changeling’s surprise, he shot his fist through the stony wall, closing strong fingers around her neck and clenching tight, tight, _tight._ In seconds the sun had turned his hand into dead stone, but it only increased the pressure of his hold around the changeling’s neck. There was a sudden _crack_ , and then the changeling turned to pebbles in front of him, letting the girl fall like a rag doll on the snowy ground.

Grekyl looked down through the hole in the wall, at his unmoving arm and the fallen girl. Corvell appeared from the edges of his vision, limping his way to Charo so he could her head and rouse her. Her nose, Grekyl noticed, was turning blue.

_She won’t last much longer._

The thought would have been comforting to Grekyl, if not for how wrong he had been about her. The little human had risked her life to save his, despite all the years he spent tormenting her with words and shoves. She was not like the human lord that drove them from their homes time and time again; she was kind and, most of all, she was _loyal_. He had to save her; he had to repay his debt.

With that in mind, the large troll bid his time, watching the sunlight shift over the girl’s legs slowly until a new cloud floated in front of the sun, blocking it from view once more.

Without hesitation, Grekyl snapped off his dead arm and broke through the stone wall to grab Charo. He hauled her over his shoulder none too gently and sprinted back to the village with Corvell flying behind them, crying out in distress for his human.

If he didn’t make it by the time the sun was back in the sky, both of them would be dead.


	5. Mᴉuʇǝɹ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that we add the second main "relationship" tag for this fic. :)

Blue on black, the North Wind’s eyes followed the retreating troll, fixed on the small hand hanging over his shoulder, limp and pale from the cold. Not so unlike his own. 

There was magic in those hands. And the girl had used it to save a troll.

_Surprising._

The embodiment of ice and wind took form and glanced down at the changeling’s dusty remains, remembering how the child had used her power to strike the half-creature and defend the troll. He wondered if she was capable of doing the same to another human. If they could get her to do the same to a _village full_ of them.

Just imagining it made a smile stretch on their bluish lips. His blue-black eyes wandered over his surroundings, seeing evidence of struggle all over their element, reliving the battle and committing it to memory. The footprints on snow, the pointed rocks shooting from the ground, the remains of a troll’s arm and changeling alike…

Gracefully, the North Wind floated down until his small feet sunk in the fresh snow in front of a thick scarf. He hooked the curve of his staff under it, pulling the piece of fabric out of the bed of snow - _their_ snow. He closed a small fist over the fabric and brought it to his nose.

_It smells of magic. Her own and troll magic. No human stench whatsoever._

Pale-blue lips curled mischievously and with a flick of their wrist the scarf disappeared into _their_ wind. He wouldn’t be returning that to the majick any time soon.

_Finders keepers._


	6. Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is here! And this one has a lot going on, if I do say so myself. Hope you enjoy it and if you can, do let me know what you think of it :)

Angor Rot was anxious.

As her father, he always worried whenever Charo went out on her own, always glanced at the cavern’s entrance multiple times in an hour, hoping to see the child return home and then sighing in disappointment when it was not so. But today he felt something beyond that; he couldn’t explain why, but he felt _scared_.

A troll was telling him something about a gnomes infestation in her house, but Angor Rot was barely listening to it. His head was on Charo, and how long she was taking to come back from the forest. He really should’ve gone with her.

The troll in front of Angor seemed to be ready to rant on forever, but a flash of movement on the cavern’s entrance, followed by a desperate caw, made her go silent as the entire village turned towards it. Corvell was there, flying agitatedly and cawing without pause as his blue eyes ran over the village, looking for his creator.

Angor Rot felt despair knock the breath out of him as he ran to the golem. “Corvell, what happened? Where’s Charo?”

The words had barely left Angor and someone else entered the village. It was Grekyl, or at least most of him. The large troll was short on one arm, but before Angor could worry about tha,t his eyes fell on his remaining limb, and on the unconscious child it was carrying.

“Charo!” Angor Rot reached out with both hands to pull the child to him. His little girl was pale and cold to the touch, unresponsive no matter how loudly he called her name.

“She used too much magic, and the snow soaked her clothes.” Grekyl explained hurriedly. “She needs heat.”

Yellow eyes rose to the large troll and in them there was a ferocity so intense and so violent that Grekyl took a step back from his leader.

“I’ll deal with you later.” Angor Rot promised before sprinting back to his house with Charo in his arms, barking orders to his people. _Feed the fire, bring dry blankets, heat something for her to drink!_

The trolls rushed to obey and in a matter of moments Angor had rid Charo of her wet clothes and wrapped her in warm blankets, holding her tight in his arms as he stood as close to the fire in their hearth as possible. Corvell stood on his shoulder, letting out miserable chirps as he stared down at the unmoving girl. In a matter of seconds, trolls approached their leader, feeding more wood to the fire and bringing a steaming cup of goat milk - something they had watched their leader feed the human so many times before, when she was a baby - to make the girl swallow it to warm her insides. Many minutes passed, and despite all of their efforts, the girl remained unmoving.

Angor shut his eyes and shook, lowering his forehead to Charo’s and whispering prayers to the Spirits. _You gave her to me. You can’t take her away now. She’s too young, too bright, too full of life for you to take her. Please, don’t take her. She’s a child,_ my _child, and I love her. I can’t bear to lose her like this._

“Angor Rot!” A troll exclaimed somewhere behind him, but he didn’t move. “Angor, you’re glowing!”

Yellow eyes shot open and Angor’s vision was tinted blue with the strong glow coming from his core stone. The soft curves on Charo’s face had the same colour, but after a moment, Angor noticed her lips were regaining some of their healthy, cherry tone. And, in that glorious moment, the girl slowly opened her eyes.

“D-Dad?”

Corvell cawed in excitement as he took to the air, flying circles above them. The surrounding trolls joined in, cheering loudly, clapping and hugging each other in celebration. Only Angor Rot remained without words, overwhelmed by the sheer relief of seeing Charo open her eyes.

“Where am I?” She asked, voice barely a whisper.

Angor Rot smiled, hugging Charo tightly to himself.

“You’re home, little one.”

* * *

A few hours later found the girl hunched over rabbit stew with potatoes, carrots and shallots, slurping it down with fervour as Grekyl explained to Angor Rot what had happened. Charo made her own inputs here and there, reassuring her father that all the troll said was true and that he had not hurt her. Once Charo finished eating, an indescribable exhaustion hit her and she asked to be excused to rest. 

“Of course, little one. Go to bed.” Angor spoke, smiling softly as he ruffled her hair one last time before she took off to her bedroom. When he turned back to Grekyl, his smile was gone and his eyes were vicious. “What were you doing in the woods, Grekyl?”

Grekyl shuffled and lowered his eyes to the ground. “I did not harm the girl. She confirmed-”

“She confirmed that Gunmar’s changeling attacked you both, but that still doesn’t explain what _you_ were doing there, _with her_.” Angor Rot snarled, advancing towards the troll. Grekyl was larger than him, but still he cowered before the barely contained hostility in his leader’s eyes. “Were you following her? Waiting for your chance to escalate your petty assaults? To turn your bullying into something more, maybe make it look like an accident?”

“I was… watching.”

“For _what_.”

“For the moment she’d show her true colours. Waiting for proof that she was just another selfish and power-hungry fleshbag, ready to turn on us and hand us over to the humans at a moment’s notice.” Grekyl spoke, clenching his one fist by his side, eyes still downcast. “But she humbled me. When the changeling showed her nature, her first words to me were ‘ _What now, Grekyl? We can’t let her find the village._ ’ Her first thought was to keep the village safe from Gunmar’s spy, and then she… she saved my life. She pushed herself to exhaustion to save me from the sun, knowing that it could mean her death in return. If the changeling hadn’t come back to taunt me, if she hadn’t put herself at arm’s reach from me I wouldn’t have been able to end her life. And if the clouds hadn’t returned, I wouldn’t have been able to bring her here. She could’ve died by Gunmar’s hand or even from the cold and still… Still...”

When Grekyl raised his eyes back to his leader, they were filled with shame.

“I was a fool, Angor Rot. All these years I was a foolish troll, unable to see past his own pride. I should’ve accepted the child the moment you brought her to us. You’re our leader, who has always looked out for this village and kept us safe. I’m sorry I doubted you, and I’m sorry I brought the girl so much pain.” Grekyl dropped to a knee in front of Angor Rot, his one hand closed in a fist over his chest. “This I vow to you: for as long as I draw breath I’ll protect Charo and treat her as the heir she is to you, our leader. Gunmar may yet come for her, but no matter what he throws at us, I’ll not let him harm the girl.”

Angor Rot sighed, suddenly too tired for doubt and distrust. Grekyl had always been a thorn in his side, but despite all his petty acts of rebellion against him and Charo, he was always loyal to their village. His mistakes came from a place of concern and misgivings, not from cruelty and malice.

“I’ll accept your oath.” Angor spoke, laying a hand on the troll’s shoulder. “Now, on your feet. There’s much work to be done, and I’ll need your help.”

* * *

Angor Rot had resisted it as far as he could, but there was no way around it anymore; he had to teach Charo how to fight. Using magic to stun the eventual wild animal was no longer enough and, despite being more prone to the magical arts than most trolls, Angor Rot had long run out of magic tricks to teach the girl. The golem totems she sculpted and her protective wards had long surpassed his own, both in duration and resilience, and there was only so much guidance he could give in helping her improve her own magical affinity to rocks and earth. In the end, no matter how much he tried, Angor Rot was no Master Wizard. 

But there was something else he could teach the girl. Something he did well.

And that was how to strike down a foe with just one blow.

* * *

“You must move faster, Charo.” Angor Rot spoke, voice devoid of the usual warmth he showed the girl. “You cannot give the Gumm-Gumms the chance to as much as scrape you.”

Deep inside their cavern, troll and human found themselves inside a large chamber which had gone unused by the village’s trolls to this day. To this day no troll had found the Hearthstone yet, but there were many pieces of it spread throughout the forest and many more inside the cavern they now inhabited. Such glowing stones were all around the wide chamber, illuminating it with gentle lights; not at all suitable to the harsh activities taking place.

Charo struggled to catch her breath as she rubbed the sweat off her eyes. Her familiar stood perched at the edge of the chamber, cawing in distress every time Angor knocked her down, wanting so much to defend his wizard but forbidden from doing so.

“Sorry, dad.” The girl wheezed out. “I’ll do better this time.”

Watching Charo ready herself for another round made Angor Rot clench his jaw and fists in anguish. It tore him up inside to push Charo to such extremes. She should’ve been playing in the woods, safe and sound, giggling freely at the world around her, but instead she was stuck with him inside a deep cave, so tired and bruised, and willing to accept more.

_Forgive me, Charo. If only I was strong enough to protect you, if only I had more power…_

Not for the first time, Angor Rot swallowed his impotence and regrets and pushed his shoulders back, ready to carry his world over them the best way he could.

“Alright, little one. Show me.”

* * *

The next four seasons passed them by with no attacks from Gunmar, who, from what Angor Rot had learned, had met his equal in a human king named Arthur, and his wizard Merlin. 

Still, Angor Rot took Charo to their training grounds almost every day, pushing her to new levels of physical strength. He knew her human strength put her at a great disadvantage against trolls like Gunmar, but if he could make her agile enough, dextrous enough, she would never need to rely on brute force to defend herself. One precise blow from a Creeper Sun’s dagger would be enough to ensure she walked out victorious and unharmed.

During those four seasons, Grekyl made good on his oath to Angor Rot. On days the troll leader was busy with his other obligations, he was the one who trained with Charo. It was good for her, for it let her practice against a different fighting style. It was also good for Angor, for it let him take a break from the anguish that stabbed him every time his blows collided against her. 

Despite her gruesome training regimen, Charo still found plenty of smiles within herself to grace Angor and all others in the village. As soon as she stepped out of the training grounds she was the cheery, warm girl they were all used to. It made all trolls wonder how a small human like her could take so much and act like all was well.

But Angor knew her better than any troll, so he saw beyond those cheerful faces she made. He saw how her eyes didn’t shine with excitement anymore, how her smiles became tight-lipped and brief, how her giggles barely reached his ears nowadays. Still, he’d rather have her tired but safe, than see her body hanging from Gunmar’s blade.

\---

It was the beginning of Spring, one of the rare days that Angor Rot didn’t tell Charo to train. The girl was exhausted and it showed, so he thought it would be a better idea if she took the night off from training.

“Charo, you may rest today.” Angor spoke as he gently combed his fingers through the girl’s hair. “Later tonight I’m going out to set wards, if you want to come with me.”

For one wonderful moment, all the exhaustion left the girl’s face as a big smile pulled on her lips. “I do!” 

Angor smiled. “Alright, but only if you sleep first.”

* * *

Charo slept through the entire afternoon, waking up just in time to eat some bread and fruits before following Angor out of the village with Corvell close behind. She was smiling as usual, chatting excitedly with him, and if anyone were to look at her now, they’d never guess how gruesome of a training regimen she endured for the last year. But only because they wouldn’t notice how she tensed at every little sound in the surrounding woods. It was heart-wrenching, even more because he was the one doing that to her.

“Charo,” Angor called, pulling the girl to a standstill and dropping to a knee in front of her. His yellow eyes bore into her wide ones as he laid large, comforting hands on her shoulders. Carvell took his favourite spot on top of the girl’s head. “I’m sorry.”

The girl furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What? Why?”

“I’m asking so much of you, pushing you hard to become stronger in such a short time… It’s not fair to you, I know that. But I only do that because I want you to be safe. Gunmar-”

“I know, dad.” Charo spoke, laying a soft hand on his cheek. “It’s not that. And I like training with you and Grekyl. It’s tiring, of course, but it’s a lot of fun too!”

“Don’t lie to protect my feelings, little one.” Angor Rot admonished.

“I’m not!”

“Charo, I’m your father. Your smiles can fool others into believing nothing is wrong, but I can see how tired you really are. And I know I’m to blame for it.” The little girl lowered her eyes to the ground and mumbled some words under her breath that did not quite reach Angor’s ears. “What was that? Tell me, Charo.”

“It’s not that. I just… I haven’t been sleeping very well.” Charo admitted, raising her eyes back to him. His own widened at how her lips trembled and tears threatened to streak down her cheeks. “I’ve been having nightmares on and off ever since that woman attacked Grekyl and I. That woman- I mean, that _changeling’s_ red eyes keep appearing in my dreams and when I wake up, it’s like she’s in my room with me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Angor asked, hands holding tighter on her shoulders. Every trembling word that left the girl was like a stab to his heart. “Charo, how could you keep that from me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you even more.” She answered. “I can see how anxious you are too, dad. You have so much to worry about: training me, keeping the village safe, keeping tabs on Gunmar and the human lord, and now the changelings too... You never take a moment for yourself anymore. I didn’t want to add something else, let alone something as silly as bad dreams.”

Angor sighed. “Don’t you ever do that again, Charo. I’m your father. Worrying over you is what I’m supposed to do.”

“But, dad-”

“Don’t you ‘but, dad’ me. Promise me, little one. Promise me you’ll tell me whenever there is something bothering you.” The girl pouted, averting her eyes once more. “Charo....”

“I promise.” She said at last. “But only if you let me help set the magical wards! I don’t remember the last time I really used my magic!”

Angor Rot chuckled, pulling the girl in a hug.

“Alright, but just a couple. You are supposed to rest, remember?”

* * *

After talking with Charo, Angor Rot felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Nightmares was something he could help with; his magic wasn’t as strong as hers, but he knew how to weave a strong dream-catcher that could prove helpful. He could help ease her anxieties, and that was all the troll could ask for.

But his relief was short-lived.

Charo had been excited about using her magic properly again. For more than an entire year she had focused solely on combat-training, and she missed the sensation of magic flowing through her hands. Even Angor was eager about it, for he had missed the sensations of Charo’s warm magic around him as well.

“Here is a good place.” The troll stated, gesturing to a wide oak tree in front of them. “Go on.”

Charo smiled widely, reaching to the magic within her and pulling it to her hands. Corvell, feeling the shift in energy, took flight from her head and settled on his creator’s shoulder. The familiar was uncharacteristically quiet and when Angor turned to face him, he seemed nervous.

Charo’s magic flowed out of her fingertips and into the tree-bark, but it was not what either of them expected. It was weak and slow, completely unsteady. Not at all like the previous spells she used to cast. The girl noticed it and doubled down on her efforts, but when at last she had concentrated enough magic to shape her spell the ward was feeble, not enough to last for more than an hour or two, let alone a few days.

She dispersed the spell with a huff.

“I guess I’m out of practice.” Charo said sadly, not looking at Angor or Corvell. “Sorry, dad.” Corvell chirped gently as he flew towards her, and she wasted no time into grabbing her familiar and hugging it tightly to herself.

The troll smiled reassuringly and walked to her so he could ruffle her hair. “It happens. You’re not at your best, little one.”

Charo shook her head. “I’ll start practicing again.”

Angor looked down at her, and this time Charo didn’t even try to hide her frustration. Not being able to use her magic really got to her, more than any nightmare or bruise.

Without a word, Angor Rot hooked his hand under her arms and lifted her high in the air.

“Dad!” Charo yelled, startled as her father put her over his shoulders. Corvell cawed loudly and beaked his head. “What are you doing?” Angor chuckled, adjusting her on his shoulders as he swatted the familiar away. When he didn’t answer, the girl sighed, letting her body relax as she laid her weight on the back of his head and horns. 

When she was younger, Charo used to ask him all the time to carry her around like that, raising her little hands in the air and opening and closing her little fists in a “pick me up” sign. Angor didn’t quite remember when or why he stopped perching her on his shoulders. Sure, she had grown taller and heavier, but it was nothing compared to his size. She’d always be his _little one_.

 _And yet so much has changed._ Angor thought, feeling a deep sadness in his heart. _And it’ll change so much more._

Yellow eyes glanced furtively at the failed ward.

* * *

“Grekyl, may I have words with you?”

The large troll looked at his leader. Angor Rot looked exhausted, more than he had ever seen him.

“Of course, Angor Rot. What can I do for you?”

The troll leader sighed and sat down on a nearby rock. “You’ve been training a lot with Charo lately. What do you make of her progress?”

“She’s doing much better than I ever thought possible.” Grekyl answered. “She’s fast and smart, stronger than most trolls I know. With the Creeper Sun’s dagger you gave her, she could pose an actual threat to any troll that dares to attack her.” The troll stopped for a moment. “But you know that. What is it you really want to know, Angor Rot?”

“I worry I’m taking the wrong approach with Charo.” Angor spoke heavily. “Last night she tried to cast a ward and couldn’t do it properly. Her magic has always been remarkably strong, stronger than mine. But she has barely used it in the last year, and she’s losing practice. Losing her touch with it even.”

Grekyl frowned, thinking over Angor’s words. “May I speak frankly, Angor Rot?”

“Please.”

“Charo is growing into a very skilled warrior. I have no doubt she could hold her own in a fight with any troll. But she’s still human, and it may not be enough if Gunmar sends his men after her. What could set her apart and make her truly _outstanding_ is her magic. If you’re wondering the best way to make her strong - strong enough that Gunmar cannot touch her - I believe her magic is the best bet.”

Angor Rot buried his face in his hands. He remained still and silent for long moments, so long that Grekyl thought he was being dismissed. The troll was about to walk away when Angor’s words stopped him.

“I agree with you, Grekyl.”

Grekyl frowned. There was more that his leader wanted to say. “You agree with me… But?”

“But I’m not strong enough to teach her how to use her magic.” Angor Rot admitted. “Which means, someone else will have to do it.”

_And for that, I must let her go._


	7. Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm glad you guys seem to be enjoying this fic! It's been nice to have a new project to work on after so long.  
> In this chapter we introduce a new character, and I hope you'll like them and the new dynamics they will bring in this story. :)
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think about the chapter! 
> 
> Kisses,  
> RedVoid

For all the differences between human and troll physiology, Angor Rot had always met all of Charo’s needs as a baby and then as a child. But, and that was a secret only he knew, he had help.

When he first brought the baby to his village, Angor Rot did not know what to feed her. The first day with Charo had been torture for the troll, as he listened to the baby cry in hunger with no idea what to give her. When night fell, he began wandering the woods with her, trying to offer berries, tree-sap and even tiny pieces of meat of a bird he had shot down, but the baby refused every time as her loud cries echoed in the dark woods and into his heart.

Suddenly, a goat bleated, a high, ear-grating sound that for one blissful second nullified Charo’s anguish. Curious, Angor Rot followed the sound to find a female goat standing alone in the middle of the woods, on the same spot from where he had taken Charo. The goat had a rope tied loosely around her neck that, keeping her bound to a nearby tree, and besides the animal, Angor found a metal pot with a wooden cup and spoon inside.

The troll frowned, adjusting the crying baby in his arms. He remembered that once, a long time ago, he had miscalculated the time during one of his patrols and ended up stuck hidden in the shade of a couple of trees just outside a farm, waiting for the sun to set. That day, Angor had watched the human family that lived there go around their day with something close to fascination in his eyes, and one thing he had watched them do was milk a goat such as this.

 _Animals are nursed with milk_ , Angor mused, staring down at the hungry baby in his arms.

Without a second thought, the troll untied the goat from the tree and took her back to the village.

* * *

After that day, Angor Rot returned to that very spot every night in a row. At the end of the next moon cycle, on the first day of the new moon, he found out how the goat had come to be in his woods.

_It’s her._

Hidden in the shadows, Angor Rot watched a woman run into his woods; and it was not just any woman, but the very one who had abandoned Charo: her mother. And much like the first time Angor had seen her, the woman carried an oil-lamp in one hand, and a basket in the other. She walked to the very tree to which she had tied the goat and looked around, as if hoping to see something or _someone_. When nothing happened she let out a deep sigh and lowered the basket to the grass before walking out of the woods.

Once Angor Rot was certain the woman would not return, he approached the basket. There he found blankets, baby clothes, and two large jars, one filled with smashed vegetables and another with smashed fruits.

And much like he had done with the goat, Angor took the basket back to the village.

* * *

Every first day of the new moon, without mistake, Charo’s mother would leave gifts for her.

The Troll Leader had done the possible and impossible to learn how to care for and feed a human child without having to resort to her mother’s silent help. Observing other animals, he figured out what types of fruits, leaves and mushrooms a human could eat, and he learned how to cook game meat and bone-marrow stews, all to make sure his little Charo was well-fed and healthy.

However, there were things in the gifts her mother left in the woods that were too far from what Angor Rot knew and consumed as a troll for him to provide for Charo. Bread, cakes, cheese, fruit preserves, farm vegetables - fresh and pickled -, grains, oats… all things Angor could not find in the woods, and that Charo greatly enjoyed. Besides food, the woman also provided a book on medicinal herbs which Angor had referred to whenever Charo as much as sneezed, and clothes and shoes that, somehow, always were a perfect fit for the growing child.

Angor Rot watched the woman leave the gifts on every new moon, but he had never approached or told Charo about her. He could say it was because he hated the woman who had abandoned his Charo to die in the woods, or because he didn’t trust her and thought it was a trap to find his people. But there was also a deeper truth to his hesitance: he was scared. Scared that Charo and her mother would want to meet one another, scared that Charo would choose her mother over him and leave.

But now, despite his anger, distrust and fear, Angor Rot would have to confront his daughter’s mother, because Charo would need to leave regardless of his feelings on the matter and for that, he needed the woman’s help.

* * *

It was the first day of the second new moon of Spring. Angor Rot had spent the entire day visibly agitated, and it had only got worse now that it was night-time and he found himself hidden on top of a tree, standing watch over the place where Charo’s mother usually left her offerings. Part of him wished she wouldn’t show up, wished the woman would at last forget Charo ever existed. If she did, then Angor would have no other choice but to protect her from the Gumm-Gumms himself, keeping her close to him for decades to come.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Angor was ashamed of himself. How could he even entertain putting his selfish wants over Charo’s needs? No matter how lonely he’d become once she was far from him; as long as she was safe and happy he could deal with anything that was thrown his way. And maybe, when Gunmar was a thing of the past, his little girl would come back to him, this time forever.

With that thread-bare comfort in mind, Angor Rot laid the back of his head against the tree bark behind him, watching the foliage billow in the wind. A sudden gust flew through him, chilling Angor to his core. It was cold and strong, as if Winter was trying to rake in a couple last breaths out of its season.

 _It’s time for both of us to let go,_ Angor thought sadly, yellow eyes moving back to the ground, where a weak light shone through the trees. The human woman had just crossed into his line of sight, carrying a large basket on her back with what Angor Rot assumed were clothes for the coming season. As always, she stood by her tree, palm rubbing gently against the rough bark as she watched the shadows with longing in her eyes. Angor had watched that scene many times before, but this was the first time he noticed the woman’s eyes; they were sad and lonely, a mirror of his own.

In that moment, Angor felt an inexplicable closeness to the woman, as if they were the same.

Chest tight, the troll jumped down from his tree, making just enough noise to alert the human he was there. The woman jumped in fright and fell on her behind before him as her eyes raked up his stone form, noticing every crack and root before at last settling in his glowing eyes.

“It’s you…” She let out, voice a strained whisper of pain and wonder. “You’re the troll from that night. The one who saved my baby.” She scrambled to her feet and latched herself on him, fragile hands closing around his much larger one with a strength he didn’t expect. “Please, tell me of her! Is she safe? Is she healthy? Is she… happy?”

“She’s not _your_ baby,” Angor spoke, but regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth at the heartbroken look on the human’s face. Much more softly, he added. “But she’s healthy and happy.”

Tears in her eyes, the woman smiled as her hold around his hand fell. “Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have said that. I know don’t have the right, but… would you tell me more of her? Please, my lord, I beg of you.”

Angor sighed and retrieved the basket she left on the floor. Looking inside he noticed he was right: there were a couple of lighter tunics and pants for the Spring, and a pair of sturdy but airier leather boots that would do nicely in replacing the heavy pair she wore on Winter. Lately, Charo was growing so fast she was going through her clothes and shoes at an alarming rate.

“I never thanked you for your gifts,” Angor spoke, the words weird on his mouth. “They’ve come in handy multiple times. The medical book especially.”

“W-Why? Is she a sickly child?” The woman asked, despair back in her voice. “I feared she could have a frail health. My mother has never dealt well with harsh Winters and-”

“Like I said, she’s _healthy_ ,” Angor cut in, not unkindly. “She’s had a few ‘sniffles’ and ‘bellyaches’ but she always recovered quickly. It’s been longer than a year since she last fell down with something. Still, it was heart wrenching whenever she felt unwell and the book helped ease her pains.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” the woman said, smiling once more. “Thank you for caring for her, my lord.”

“Don’t… Don’t call me that. I’m not your cruel, human leader,” the troll said, scowling at the ground. “My name is Angor Rot.”

“Of course, I’m deeply sorry,” the woman spoke and then, surprising him to no end, she bowed her head and performed a courtesy. “My name is Emma. I’m forever in your debt for taking care of my- I mean, of Charo.”

After fifteen years, Angor Rot at last had a name for the face of Charo’s mother. It tore at the wall of resentment and distrust he had built between them, and made him see her more as her own person than just another fleshbag. Made him wonder if, when she had abandoned Charo in his woods, she had been faced with the same dilemma that stood before him right now.

“Emma,” Angor called her name, noticing that it didn’t taste bitter in his tongue. “I’m sure you must be wondering why I showed myself to you tonight. Must know there’s a reason more than just putting a name to a face.”

Emma looked at anywhere but him, and Angor was taken aback at how much she resembled Charo in that moment. The more he looked, the more he could see his daughter’s face in the woman’s.

“I must admit the thought crossed my mind,” Emma said, raising her large eyes back to his. “Is there something wrong with Charo?”

Angor nodded sadly. “How much time can you spare?”

“I can’t stay gone the whole night. If my husband finds out I’m here…” Emma’s voice trailed off, but the fear in her was almost tangible. It added to Angor’s suspicions that abandoning Charo had not been her idea. “But I have a little time to spare. He thinks I’m playing cards with my mother and his.”

“I will walk you to the edge of the forest as I explain the situation then,” Angor settled, settling the basket on his back. 

“Thank you, my lo- I mean, Angor. Angor Rot,” Emma said with another curtesy. “You’re most kind.”

Angor frowned at the human’s weird formalities and turned around to begin their march. “You asked me of Charo’s wellbeing, and I answered she is happy and healthy...”

“Yes?”

“But she might not be safe.”

* * *

As quickly and concisely as he could, Angor Rot explained the situation to Emma. From the threat that her human lord and Gunmar represented to them, to Charo’s ever-growing physical strength and his own lack of knowledge to teach her magic properly, to help her become _more_.

“I don’t understand, Angor Rot,” Emma spoke as they broke the woods’ treeline. In the distance they could see a few lamps-lit windows in the village and castle. “What can I possibly do to help? The reason…” Her voice caught in her throat as she lowered her eyes to her feet. “The reason I had to leave Charo was her magic. Her father-”

“ _I’m her father_!” Angor snarled, causing Emma to jump back in fright. She dropped to her knees, sobbing her apologies, and the scene made the troll’s stone heart tighten inside his chest. Slowly, he kneeled by her and laid a comforting hand on her bowed head. “It’s alright, Emma. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”

The woman raised her gaze back to him. Her eyes were already red and filled with tears, and from this close Angor saw a green-ish shadow on her left cheekbone. He thought it was a strange place to bruise and wondered how she had fallen and hit her face. Then he realised that, unlike Charo’s frequently scraped knees and elbows, that bruise didn’t come from falling on the ground.

“The human lord is cruel to his own kin, it seems,” Angor Rot spoke, gently helping Emma back on his feet. “I can see now. Leaving Charo with me was not cowardice, it was bravery. You are a brave human, Emma.”

Emma’s eyes shone in wonder, as if that was the first time someone had ever complimented her. “You really are kind, Angor Rot,” She whispered as she dried her tears on the back of her hands. “I’m so happy you were there that night. If my husband ever found out… If he ever put his hands on Charo...”

“He won’t,” Angor promised. “I will never allow him the chance.”

Emma nodded as she gazed back at the village. “I won’t either. Even if it costs me my life,” She said, and when she looked back at him, her teary eyes had hardened. “Tell me, Angor Rot. What can I do for Charo?”

The troll sighed as he looked to the dark horizon.

“Overseas, there is a kingdom called Camelot. There lives a Wizard named Merlin...”


	8. Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who took the time to comment on last chapter! I'm always so happy to hear your thoughts on this fic! :)  
> So happy that I'll let you all have some angst this chapter, as a treat. =.=
> 
> This should be my last update this year, but I hope to continue posting in 2021!   
> Also, I hope 2021 treats us all much more kindly than 2020 did, and that you all stay safe and enjoy your Holidays and New Year's Eve! :)
> 
> Kisses,  
> RedVoid

Charo and Grekyl had been training for the best part of the day. And while she had grown used to the physical exhaustion by now, the troll added a whole extra layer to their combat-practice: magic. Grekyl told Charo to use at least one magical attack against him for every three physical ones; it didn’t matter if she’d launch a rock against him or have the ground beneath his feet move and trip him over, as long as she did something.

That, Charo found, proved to be remarkably difficult. In this last year she had barely practiced her magic, so every time she tried to cast a spell she had to stop what she was doing to concentrate on her magic and nothing else. And in that meantime, Grekyl would slam into her and knock her on her behind.

“The fight won’t stop for you, girl. You need to be faster,” the troll said, pulling a sweaty Charo to her feet with his one arm. “You used to make loops for your golem to fly through easily. Why not try to adapt that to the fight?”

Corvell, who was watching the fight from the sidelines, flew to them and cawed loudly at the troll’s face before landing on top of the girl’s head. “Corvell is my _familiar_ , Grekyl. Not just a golem.” Charo said between huffs and puffs. “And I’m _trying_. But it’s so hard to focus on two things at the same time.”

“You must, though. That’s why we’re practicing so much,” Grekyl spoke, stepping back to resume his fighting stance. “Come on, if you manage at least one proper spell on the next round we can stop for dinner.”

Charo took in a deep breath and copied Grekyl’s stance. She could do one spell, she _would_.

* * *

She didn’t. 

They fought five rounds and all of them ended the same way: with Charo flat on her back before she could as much as release the magic in her hands to shape her spell. The girl’s legs were shaking as she stood up to fight a sixth time, but Grekyl took pity on her and called it a day. Charo thought to protest his decision, but couldn’t get the words out between her heaving breaths, so she just swallowed her wounded pride and followed Grekyl out of the training grounds and back to the village while Corvell flew circles over their heads.

“Maybe magic isn’t for me,” Charo said sadly, kicking a small rock out of the way. “Maybe I’m just another _fleshbag_ after all.”

Grekyl huffed. “Well, of course you’re a fleshbag. Look at you, all soft and squishy,” As he said that, he flicked a finger against her round cheek, making her yelp and jump back. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not magic. Ever since a baby, you used your magic as naturally as you breathed air. It was unlike anything anyone in the village had ever seen.”

“So why can’t I use it now, when we need it the most?” Charo asked as they arrived at her and Angor’s home. Her father was nowhere in sight tonight, and she moved to dig into an old chest, coming up with a pair of old shoes that didn’t fit her anymore. She offered those to Grekyl before walking to their pantry to retrieve some jerk salmon and berries for herself. Both sat down at the stone chairs surrounding the hearth to eat, while Corvell, magic-made creature that he was, just settled on his Magician’s head to pull some of her energy to himself.

“I feel like I’m letting everyone down,” Charo admitted, taking a rough bite of her salmon.

“For the last year, Angor Rot had you focus solely on combat-training. It’s natural that you’d lose practice in Magic,” Grekyl said with a shrug before eating her right shoe in just one bite. “Angor Rot is incapable of ever being disappointed in you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Charo spoke. “I feel like I haven’t seen him at all lately. As if he’s avoiding me… Last week he went out every night, and during the day he’s always busy with village matters, setting escape routes in the cave’s tunnels with his golems. And he doesn’t let me help. Before, he’d have me mould the passages with my magic, but now… now, I feel like he doesn’t trust me anymore in any magic stuff. As if I’d only get in the way if he took me with him,” the girl sighed, eyes down. “Then again, I _would_ only be an inconvenience to him.”

After long moments of silence, Charo raised her eyes back to Grekyl. The troll slurped the last of her shoelaces while he stared at her with an uncharacteristically intrigued gaze. “Funny,” he remarked.

“What is?”

“How you fleshbags let your heads take you to the most far-away places. Has Angor Rot ever asked you to keep your distance from him?”

“Well, no.”

“Ever said he was disappointed with your progress?”

“No…”

“Ever told you he doesn’t trust you with your own magic?”

“He hasn’t, but-”

“Then where in Gorgus’ name did you get all of those ideas from?” Grekyl asked, rolling his eyes at her. “You fleshbags get confused with your own thoughts. If you’re so worried about those things, then you should talk directly with Angor Rot, instead of coming up with crazy ideas based on nothing more than your own imagination.”

Charo stared at Grekyl, taken aback by his words. “What?” The troll asked, bothered by her intense gaze.

“Nothing,” Charo said with a giggle. “I’m just… really happy we’re friends now, Grekyl. Thank you for putting up with me.”

It was Grekyl’s turn to be surprised with her words, but before he could recover and say something back, Angor Rot walked into his home, drawing their attention to himself.

“Dad, you’re back!” Charo exclaimed happily, running to wrap her arms around his middle in a hug, head just a few inches below his chest. Grekyl recalled when she barely reached his knees. “Will you have dinner too?”

The troll leader smiled and hugged the girl back. “Not tonight, little one. I just came by to get Grekyl,” At that, his yellow eyes rose to the other troll. “Do you have some time to spare? There are matters I would like to discuss with you.”

Grekyl opened his mouth to respond, but Charo beat him to it. “But, dad,” She called, pulling on his hand to get his attention back on her. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Can’t you stay a little while? Please? I- I miss you, dad.”

Angor smiled at her, softly and sadly. “I’m sorry, little one. But it really can’t wait. However, there’s someone out there waiting to spend some time with you.”

Charo pouted, exchanging a look with Corvell. “Veena?”

“Exactly,” Angor confirmed. “It’s been a couple of moons since you last saw each other. So why don’t you go have fun with her for a while? When you get back, I’ll make you some tea and we can spend some time together, just the two of us.”

“You promise?”

Angor’s smile remained sad when he pulled her in another hug. “I promise. Now go, Veena is waiting for you.”

Despite being denied, Charo smiled and nodded, sauntering out of her home with one last wave to her father and Grekyl. Corvell flew after her, letting out eager chirps at the prospect of some fresh air. Once she was out of sight, Angor’s smile dropped as he let his weight fall down on the stone armchair at the corner of the room, a piece of furniture that Charo had built for him with her magic a long time ago.

“What’s wrong, Angor Rot?” Grekyl asked, frowning at his leader. “I thought the fleshbag had agreed to cooperate. Has the coward broken her promise already?”

Angor sighed, shaking his head. “Emma is not a coward, Grekyl. In these few weeks I’ve been dealing with her I’ve come to learn and understand her reasons for leaving Charo in my care, and cowardice had nothing to do with it.”

Grekyl scoffed. “And what would those reasons be?”

“Her husband, the human lord, threatened to kill Charo himself if she refused to let go of the child,” Angor stated, causing the other troll to widen his eyes in shock. “He believes Emma killed the baby herself instead of taking her to the woods. I can only imagine what he’d do to both mother and daughter if he ever found out Charo is alive and healthy.” At that, Grekyl snarled and spat at the ground, completely disgusted. Angor shared the feeling. “Which means we have to be extra careful on how we proceed from now on.”

“And how should we proceed?” Grekyl asked. “What news have you of the fleshbag?”

“Emma hasn’t been able to contact the Wizard Merlin,” Angor informed, eyes far-away and tired; so, _so_ tired. “But it seems she has a friend from her childhood years who will help instead. She’s a Master Wizard too, one of Merlin’s previous apprentices.”

“That’s good,” Grekyl said, but Angor’s response was a miserable sigh. “Well, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course. Everything is moving according to plan. Emma said this Wizard should come here during the next moon, under the pretense of an amicable visit. Then-” The troll paused, raising his hands to cover his face. When he continued, his voice was low and trembling, as if he was holding back tears. “-then she will take Charo with her, to become Merlin’s apprentice. She will live in Camelot, the kingdom Gunmar has been actively fighting for the last year. Oh Spirits, maybe this is not a good idea after all. Maybe she’d be safer here. After all, Gunmar has been ignoring us for the last four seasons.”

“There she’d be under the protection and training of a Master Wizard, Angor Rot,” Grekyl reminded. “Gunmar is focusing his attention on Camelot because they are the only ones capable of fending off his attacks. If he ever moves his battles here, our only choice would be to run away, again. Then there’s the human lord beyond our woods. We know it’s a matter of time before he expands his lands once again and Charo is no longer a child. She’ll want to fight by our side once he does. And if what the fleshbag told you about that lord is true, he’ll set out to kill her as soon as he sets his sights on her,” Angor sighed, face still buried in his hands, and Grekyl took this as permission to continue. “No path is completely safe for Charo. There will be risks for her here and in Camelot. But, thinking long term, I think her chances are better there. Also, Wizards are unlike other fleshbags; they have extremely long lives just like us. There might be a time when it’s safe for her to return home. Return to you.”

Angor Rot took in a deep breath, then another. “I know all that. This is all I’ve thought about for many moons now. Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I guess it doesn’t. And there’s something else still,” Grekyl said, getting Angor Rot to raise his eyes back to him. “You need to tell your plans to the girl.”

Angor grunted. “I know… I’ve been postponing this for as long as I could not to worry her earlier than necessary.”

“She’s already worried, Angor Rot,” Grekyl pointed out. “She’s been feeling your absence, and she fears it’s because she has disappointed you somehow.”

Angor Rot shook his head. “Of course, Charo would imagine something like that. No matter how many times I reassure her, she always thinks she’s a burden to me.”

“You know how fleshbags are prone to imagining things. They need constant reassurance.”

“I’ll talk to her when she gets back,” Angor settled and stood up from his chair. “Thank you for your help, Grekyl. You’ve been a valuable friend in all of this.”

Grekyl stood up as well, following his leader to the house’s exit. “The girl said something similar. Despite all I’ve done… she still thanked me for nothing more than my company. I don’t understand. I spent years tormenting her, and in only a couple of seasons she’s already treating me like I’m her family.”

“You’ve more than redeemed yourself, Grekyl,” Angor said with a smile, laying a comforting hand on the troll’s shoulder. “I guess Charo is not the only one who must be reminded of her worth, huh?”

The other troll huffed a laugh. “I guess.”

* * *

It was close to dawn when Charo returned home and, to her delight, Angor Rot was there, waiting for her with a table set with bread, goat cheese and wild berries’ preserve for her, and raw snowcat meat for himself. As soon as she walked in, he smiled and put a teapot on the fire.

“I hope you’re not too tired for an early breakfast, little one,” Angor said as he sat at the small, squared table. 

“Not at all!” Charo replied, scurrying to take her place at his right. Corvell startled at the sudden movement, but soon flew after her and settled on the back of her chair. “It looks great! Thanks, dad!”

Angor smiled warmly as he watched Charo cut a thick slice of bread and later it with a generous spread of goat cheese followed by a tiny layer of berry preserve. That particular combination was one of Charo’s favourite foods, and the only reason she could enjoy it was because Emma provided it for her. 

“Tell me, little one,” Angor began, completely ignoring his own food. “Have you ever wondered where these foods come from?”

Charo took a few moments to chew and swallow her food. Honestly, she had never thought about that before, just assumed that cooking was yet another of her father’s many talents. However, now that he mentioned it, she had never seen bread or cheese or jams anywhere else in the village other than her home; nor had she ever seen her father cooking anything other than the game and fish they caught in the woods, and the roots and mushrooms she picked.

Angor watched as her face gradually morphed from delighted to pensive to utterly confused, and chuckled. It was not a joyful laughter though; it was strained, awkward, _nervous_.

“Dad?” Charo called, expression changing one last time into one of worry. “What’s wr-”

The teapot’s whistle, loud and shrill, cut off her words, making Angor leap from his seat and take two long steps towards their hearth to retrieve the pot. He poured the hot, chamomile-scented liquid into Charo’s wooden mug and sat back down. The girl reached out to pull her mug towards her, but stopped herself halfway when she noticed her hands were trembling. She didn’t understand why, but she was scared. Of course, her dad noticed it and reached out to her, closing his large hands over hers and squeezing them in comfort.

“I haven’t been spending much time with you lately, and I’m sorry,” he spoke. “But you must know that I love you, little one, and that I’m proud of being your father,” Angor smiled sadly. “There are things I’ve been keeping from you, little one. Things I didn’t want to burden you with. But there’s no way around it anymore.”

“Dad? Why are you talking like this?” Charo asked, feeling her heart beat faster by the second. “You’re talking as if… as if you’re going away. I don’t like it, dad.”

Angor sighed, feeling his heart break in two inside his chest. He imagined that was how Emma felt when she left Charo in his woods.

“You didn’t answer me, little one,” he spoke softly and glanced at the table. “Have you ever wondered where these foods come from?”

* * *

By the time Angor Rot finished explaining his plans to Charo, her tea had become cold. The girl listened intently to his words, not once interrupting him. Still, despite not saying a word, the tears in her eyes spoke volumes.

“Charo, little one…” Angor whispered brokenly. “Please, talk to me.”

Eyes on the ground, Charo spoke in a small voice. “You’ve been talking to my mother, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” Angor said. “I needed to be sure we could trust her before even thinking of telling you of her. For what it’s worth, I do believe she is on our side.”

“And she…” The girl hesitated, voice catching in her throat. “She didn’t hate me?”

Angor smiled, squeezing her hands gently. “She loved you, Charo. She _loves_ you still. And you will meet her. In five days she’ll sneak you into the village and take you to meet her Wizard friend. Then she’ll take you to Camelot, where you’ll be safe from Gunmar and the human lord.”

The girl then pulled her hands back from his and reached out to her familiar instead. Corvell chirped softly as he landed on her thighs and nuzzled his face into her neck, comforting her as she hugged him tight. She spent long moments in silence, playing and replaying her father’s words in her head.

“I don’t want to go, dad,” Charo finally mumbled in a small voice. “I promise I’ll do better. I’ll train harder with you and Grekyl, and I’ll practise magic every day. I promise I’ll become strong. Strong enough that even Gunmar won’t be able to touch us. So please…” The girl’s voice broke, and a new batch of tears streamed down her face. “Please don’t make me go.”

“But, Charo-”

“Please, dad!” She said, this time much louder. “I don’t want to leave you and the village! I love it here! And if the Gumm-Gumms or the humans try to attack us, I want to fight for this place too! I don’t want to hide!”

Once again, Angor Rot reached out to the girl, pulling her hands back into his, dislocating Corvell back to his place atop her head. “Charo, please understand, I could not live with myself if anything happened to you. I’m your father; keeping you safe is my one priority.”

“What about my priorities?” She asked, teary eyes fixed on his. “I want to protect you too! What’s the point of my training if I’m won’t be here in case of an attack?”

“Charo-”

“No!” The girl yelled, pulling her hands back harshly. Both Corvell and Angor let out a startled noise at her sudden movement. “I won’t go! I won’t leave you or the village!”

With that, she turned around and ran away. Angor called out for the girl, yelled for her to come back as he made chase. But she ignored him, using her small size and agility to manoeuvre her way around the trolls as she sprinted as fast as she could towards the cavern’s exit. 

“Charo, NO!”

Angor’s desperate voice made Charo freeze on her spot. She was breathing hard and feeling warm all over. Her heart was beating so fast and her mind so anxious that it took her a moment to realise the warmth she was feeling was not only because she had been running. She was feeling warm because she was under the morning sunlight.

“Charo, get back here!” Angor yelled, voice so desperate it made him sound angry. When she turned around, her father was standing at the cavern’s entrance, at the edge of the shadows. He looked _mad_. “Now, Charo!”

Charo’s lips trembled at his order. Angor Rot had scolded her in the past, but this was the first time she saw him raise his voice like that at her, and, despite knowing he’d never raise a hand at her, she felt scared. Corvell seemed to sense her distress and cawed accusingly at the troll, and the sound was so shrill and loud that Charo felt her head pound in pain. Hurting, she shut her eyes tightly and raised her hands to her skull, fisting handfuls of her hair.

By then, the other trolls had gathered at the cavern’s entrance. There was a whole commotion as they yelled questions over one another, trying to understand what was going on. Grekyl tried to calm them down, while Angor yelled her name over and over and _over_ again.

It was too much noise, too much _heat._ Charo felt like her head would explode.

“Charo, come back inside!” Angor yelled, desperate. “Listen to your father!”

“ _But you’re **not** my father!”_

The silence that stretched after that was louder than any of the screaming voices before. It grounded Charo, brought her back from the pain in her head and heart to the present, and the reality of what she had just said.

Her eyes opened wide, releasing fresh tears as she stared at the crestfallen look in Angor Rot’s face. “I… No, I didn’t mean…” The girl shook her head, mumbling disconnected apologies as she stepped back from the cavern. “Dad, I’m sorry. I...”

Not knowing what to do or say, Charo turned her back to her home and ran away, followed only by her familiar and Angor Rot’s voice calling her name.


	9. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello and Happy New Year! Here's to a kinder and more sane 2021! Hope you all are being careful and stay as safe as possible this year as well!
> 
> This chapter is a bit short, but I hope you all like it regardless! As always, please let me know what you think about it :)
> 
> Kisses,  
> RedVoid

Charo had no idea where she was going, but she kept on running; through the trees, over streams, and into the flat fields that surrounded the human village beyond their woods. Only when she saw the village’s walls and the castle towering over them did she stop, spine curved and hands on her bent knees as her burning lungs tried to catch a breath. Corvell took a few moments to catch up with her and cawed indignantly when he did, scolding her for taking off without waiting for him.

“Sorry, Corvell,” Charo said between harsh puffs of air. The familiar glared back, landing on the top of her head and delivering a painful peck on her skull. “Ouch! I said I’m sorry! I… I wasn’t thinking.”

The adrenaline pumping in her veins at least subsided and once Charo was out of ‘flight mode’, the harshness of what she had just done dawned on her. The girl fell to her knees, face buried in her hands as fresh tears began once anew. Charo couldn’t believe she had disobeyed her dad, nor the hurtful words she had spat at him. She didn’t mean them; she loved Angor Rot with all her heart, and he’d always be her father, no matter what.

_How could I-_

“Hey! Are you alright?”

Corvell let out a muffled noise as the girl jumped to her feet as she grabbed and hid him behind her back with one hand while the other raised a dagger in front of her defensively, just like Angor and Grekyl had taught her to. Turning her glare at the owner of the unfamiliar voice, she found a human boy a couple years younger than her staring back. He raised a hand in front of him, palm open in an appeasing gesture, while the other pushed a little girl behind him protectively. His left eye was bruised, as if he had fallen face-first on the ground.

“I mean you no harm,” the boy blurted and took a step back in fear. “You just looked like you needed help.”

The boy’s words startled Charo, and for a moment her grip around Corvell went lax enough for the familiar to escape from her. “Corvell!” She yelled, and he responded by cawing loudly at her face as he dodged her attempts to grab him and hide him from the fleshbag’s, enormous, shocked eyes.

Understanding her efforts were in vain, Charo gave up on catching her familiar and turned her face to glare at the boy. “I don’t need your help,” she said defensively as Corvell took his place atop her head. “Please leave us alone.”

The boy seemed divided, eager to comply with her request but also worried about leaving her on her own. However, the little girl peeking from behind him didn’t feel the tension in the air, and when her big eyes settled on Corvell perched atop Charo’s head, she let out a delighted giggle and ran towards him with both arms outstretched in front of her. 

“Charlie, no!” The boy said firmly, hooking his hands under her arms and pulling her back before she could get too close. With the girl safe in his arms, he turned back to Charo with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am. She’s young and doesn’t know any better. Please don’t harm her.”

Charo and Corvell exchanged a confused look at the boy’s reaction. Of course they wouldn’t harm an infant. Where had this boy come from, that made him think otherwise? Charo sighed and shook her head, but before she could say anything, someone else approached them. It was a woman with a basket hanging from the crook of her elbow, and a face that was even more bruised than the boy’s.

Charo frowned at her appearance, confused at how these humans managed to fall face-first on the ground.

“Chavdar, Charlie!” The woman yelled with despair dripping from her voice as she ran towards them. When she was close enough, she put herself in between them and Charo, dropping to her knees as she looked them over for any injuries. “I told you not to go too far! What do you think you’re doing here, so close to the forest?”

The boy glanced behind himself, just noticing how distant they were from the village’s walls. Then he looked down on his feet in shame. “Sorry, mom. We were chasing the butterflies and didn’t notice we had gone this far. But we’re alright.”

The woman let out a deep breath and crushed both children against her chest. “Never do this again, alright? You have no idea how worried I got!” Then, as if just noticing her, the woman turned back to look at Charo, eyes as scared and apologetic as the boy’s had been. “I’m really sorry about my-”

Her words suddenly caught in her throat and her eyes widened in shock as they settled on Charo and Corvell. The girl frowned at the reaction and crossed her arms in front of her uncomfortably as an unknown emotion bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Living among trolls, she had never cared much for vanities such as wearing nice clothes or combing her hair frequently, often wearing patched up pants and tunics and just tying her long hair in a simple ponytail to get it out of her face. But now, looking at these three in their new and colourful attires and silky well-kempt hair, she couldn’t help but feel inappropriate. Was this what humans called feeling self-conscious?

“Mom, are you alright?” Chavdar asked, eyes darting between her and Charo in confusion. “Do you know this girl?”

The woman regained her senses and quickly put a smile on her faces. “Chavdar, take your sister and go back to the castle. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Are you sure?” The boy asked, eyeing Charo and Corvell with distrust. 

“Chavdar, listen to your mother.”

The entire exchange between mother and son had felt familiar to Charo, as if she was having some sort of deja vu. But it was those words that made Charo’s breath catch in her throat. “ _Listen to your father”_ her dad had said, before she hurled hurtful lies back at him, and then, to twist the dagger she had already plunged into his heart, ran away like a coward.

“I’m leaving too,” Charo spoke, clenching a fist over her heart as she felt a spike of pain and apprehension. 

She turned around to walk away, but the woman called out for her to wait and something in her voice made the girl freeze on the spot. It carried the same timbre of despair that her dad’s voice had when he had called out for her.

Without a word, Charo turned back around stared at the woman in confusion as Charlie clapped her chubby little hands happily in her brother’s arms. 

“You look tired,” the woman said, not unkindly, and reached inside her basket and pulled out something wrapped in fine cloth. “Here, take this.” She continued, stretching her arm to her in an offering.

Charo and Corvell exchanged a look of distrust. Her dad had taught her never to accept anything from strangers, but there was something about the woman’s sad smile that made Charo’s heart reach out to her, that made the girl _trust_ her. So, quick as a snake pouncing on its prey, the girl reached out and grabbed the offering. When she unfolded the cloth, revealing a loaf of fresh bread stuffed with cheese and smoked ham, Charo’s eyes widened. She had eaten that before, many times in the past. And now, after what Angor had revealed to her, she knew who it was that had provided it for her.

Mouth agape, Charo raised her shocked gaze back to the woman and her sad smile. “You…”

The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, but the violent noise of horses galloping and a gruff voice yelling cut her off. She and her son exchanged a terrified look before gazing back at Charo.

“You need to go!” The boy whispered, holding his sister tighter to himself. “Now!”

The woman turned around and pushed her son behind her protectively as the sounds grew closer. When she looked back to see Charo frozen solid on her spot, she frowned. “What are you doing? You need to run!”

Despite the warning, Charo found herself unable to move, babbling disconnected words under her breath as her brain was once more overrun by shock and emotion. It was Corvell who took action, grabbing the back of her shirt with his talons and pulling her forcefully back to the security of the woods’ shadows.

Hidden behind a tree, Charo watched as a couple of armoured men in horses approached the woman and her children. She saw as one of them reached down with the blunt end of his spear to push against the woman’s back, forcing her to fall in a quickened step with them as they made their way back to the village. Charo could almost taste the family’s fear in the air, and it made something close to rage coil in her chest. She didn’t understand where that emotion had come from, but she felt the urge to go back out there and defend them from those men.

But that would be stupid. One look at Corvell and those fleshbags would run back to warn the rest of the village. It would be the last drop to make their human lord call a raid to search for and destroy all the trolls they could find in the forest. With so much to lose, Charo couldn’t risk it just to help some humans she had never seen before, even if they most likely were her _mother_ and _siblings_.

So, with clenched fists and grinding teeth, Charo stood still and silent as the humans marched away, and only when they were out of sight, did her emotions simmer down, leaving her exhausted and empty. Noticing that, Corvell moved to her shoulder, chirping softly as he gave her a comforting headbutt.

“Let’s go back, Corvell,” the girl said, smiling tiredly at her familiar. “I need to apologise to dad.” 

When Charo turned around to make her way back, her eyes widened one more time. There were rocks floating in front of her, charged by nothing more than her energy. It had been a long time since she last used her magic inadvertently and, while the occasional floating pebble didn’t really surprise her much, the heavy stone that was at least three times her size hanging in the air in front of her eyes was new. 

“Spirits help me…” Charo breathed out, watching as Corvell landed on top of the enormous rock. He seemed awfully satisfied at her unintended surge of magic. “I really do need to practise.”

Focusing on the magic inside of her, Charo raised her hands in the air. She took deep breaths, reaching out to the floating rocks, and with a last sigh she relaxed her mind and body, letting the rocks around her drop with the tension in her shoulders. Having lost his spot, Corvell took to the air again and cawed unhappily at her.

“Don’t give me that look, Corvell,” Charo said, following after her familiar as they made their way back home. “I can’t lose control like that. What if I had used my magic in front of those soldiers? They would’ve attacked us, and then the village,” the girl sighed. “Maybe I should go train with that Master Wizard dad told us about after all… What’s the use of being magic if I can’t control it?”

Corvell was uncharacteristically silent at that.


	10. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not much happening this chapter, but we should pick up the pace soon enough. Also, Douxie is coming and I can't wait for it! :D  
> As always, hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think!

As Charo walked back home, she felt exhaustion hit her like a stampede of River Trolls. The whirlwind of emotions that had taken over her day combined with the night’s lack of sleep and her constantly aching muscles, making Charo feel not only as if there was a weight upon her shoulders but also another one, much heavier, in her chest. That weight rolled around uncomfortably inside her as she imagined how much she must have disappointed and angered her father.

“Think he’ll ever forgive me?” The girl asked her familiar as they crossed the threshold of the cavern’s entrance. The stone crow chirped reassuringly as he flew around her. “I behaved like such a brat.”

“That you did.”

Charo jumped three feet in the air in fright before turning around. It took her a moment to make out Angor’s intense yellow eyes staring at her from the cavern’s shadows, but when she did her gaze immediately fell to the ground in shame. She didn’t hear his footsteps as he walked towards her, but it wasn’t long before his feet entered her line of sight, pausing so close to her. Despite the proximity, Charo didn’t dare raise her eyes to him, too scared of the disappointment and anger she’d find staring back at her, choosing to keep her gaze down and watch her tears drop to the ground instead.

The girl opened her mouth a few times, wanting so much to convey how sorry she was, how much she regretted saying those hurtful and untruthful words to the most important person in her life, but the apologies caught in her throat and tumbled out as nothing more than nonsensical mumbles alongside her tears. Before she could gather her bearings and say anything that made much sense, there was a loud sigh above her as Angor dropped to his knees, heavy arms encircling her shoulders and pulling her in a hug.

“Never scare me like that again, Charo,” the troll spoke, voice trembling. “I was so worried.”

Charo’s silent tears escalated to loud sobs as she wrapped her arms around Angor’s neck tightly. “I’m sorry, dad! I didn’t mean what I said, I didn’t mean it at all. I was angry and not thinking, and I’m so sorry! You’re my dad and I love you!”

“Oh, little one. I forgave you as soon as those words left your lips. I’m your father, I’ll always forgive you,” Angor spoke gently, pulling back just enough to rub the tears off Charo’s soft cheeks. “And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have kept all those things from you. I didn’t want to worry you without need, but I see now that has only caused you more distress. Please forgive me too,” Charo nodded, cleaning her nose on the sleeve of her blouse, and her father smiled. “Let’s go home. You must be tired.”

The girl returned his smile with her own, letting out a bright giggle when Corvell took his place on top of her head and cawed at them, demanding attention too. Angor chuckled, petting the golem’s head before offering Charo his hand. She grasped it, and both fell into step. They moved in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Charo found the courage to speak again.

“Dad…”

“Yes?”

“I… I think I saw my mother.”

* * *

Charo fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and Corvell, despite not really needing rest, promptly curled up on by her head and closed his bright blue eyes to relax. Meanwhile, Angor sat down at the edge of the bed, smiling softly as he tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind his daughter’s ear. He couldn’t describe how relieved he was that she was back with him, sleeping soundly in the safety of her bed.

Still, having Charo run off for a couple of hours had driven to the brink of despair, so Angor Rot could only imagine how he’d feel daily once she moved to the very, very, _very_ distant kingdom of Camelot. 

_Spirits, I fear I’ll never enjoy a good night of rest again._

Angor sighed, bending at the waist to touch his forehead to hers, where he remained for a moment, enjoying what he knew would be one of the last moments he’d have with his daughter before she left. He whispered a prayer to the Spirits, thanking them for keeping her safe today, and begging for further protection in the future. More than all that, he also pleaded with them to bring her back to him one day.

With a sigh and a sad smile, Angor stood up. While he’d like to stay and watch Charo sleep, basking in the soothing magic that floated all around her and in the certainty that she, at least in those precious moments, was completely content and sheltered, the troll leader still had obligations to his people. There were arguments and complaints that demanded his attention, and he wanted to settle them all before night fell.

He had a feeling Emma would be waiting for him in the forest tonight. For him… and Charo.

* * *

“Are you certain you want to come with me, little one?” Angor Rot asked, staring at Charo with apprehension as she shoved her feet inside her boots. “I’d understand if you didn’t feel ready to meet with your mother just yet. I’m sure she would too.”

“I’m alright, dad,” Charo answered, shooting him a smile that trembled only slightly. “I… I need to do this,” she stated and Corvell cawed in agreement, nodding his little stone head.

“I understand,” Angor said with a smile that was equally worried and proud. “Well, let us go then.”

Charo nodded, jumping to her feet. “Yes.”

* * *

There was something incredibly nostalgic about wandering the woods with Angor that night; the moon was full, and the weather was just right: crisp with the chill of early Spring with none of Winter’s sharp iciness. And for what felt like the first time in years, father and daughter were both completely present in the moment, enjoying being in one another’s company without unspoken worries hammering on the back of their heads.

With this newfound lightness in her mind and body, Charo even performed some magic tricks along the way, and while they were not as complex as the ones she used to do when she was younger, they were still more than she had dared in a long time. And to her utmost delight, she succeeded more often than not, giggling when magic flowed effortlessly from her fingertips.

However, the closer they got to the meeting place, the playful aura slowly seeped away, giving room to foreboding silence and anxiety. Charo’s smile became strained and even Corvell stopped flying in circles around them, opting to settle on top of her head instead, still and silent as a statue. Even Angor seemed bothered, glowing eyes flicking back and forth between Charo and the warm light of an oil lamp shining through the trees in front of them.

“You ready, little one?” Angor asked. Charo nodded, but her eyes lacked the confidence from earlier that night.

Troll and human walked into the warm light, revealing themselves to the lone woman standing there with an oil-lamp in her hands. Emma looked every bit as uncertain and anxious as them, walking in circles around the trees as she forced herself to take deep, uneven breaths.

“Emma,” Angor called softly, making her freeze on the spot. “I brought someone to see you.”

Charo watched Emma’s frozen form for long moments, so still the girl could believe she was actually made of stone. Just like her mother, the girl also remained frozen on the spot, not daring to take a breath.

Slowly, fearfully, Emma turned around; her eyes were glassy, overflowing with tears as they focused on the girl in front of her. Her daughter was definitely not a baby anymore, but she would recognise those enormous eyes anywhere; they were the same shade of her husband’s, but unlike his stony gaze, hers had been full of wonder and curiosity ever since she was a baby. There really was no mistaking it; that was her little girl looking back at her, her little Charo. 

Emma tried to speak, to call out her daughter’s name, but her voice caught in her throat. Her hands were shaking so badly she didn’t even notice when the oil-lamp slipped free from her grasp. But Charo did, and she leaped forwards just in time to grab the handle and keep it from scorching the grass.

“Careful…” the girl said as she stood up to her full height, taken aback at finding she was a couple inches taller than the woman in front of her. Charo had grown used to the trolls’ towering forms, so it was almost unsettling to find someone that wasn’t a gnome shorter than her. “We have had no rain in a while,” she continued, eyes down. “This could have started a fire.”

Charo’s eyes flicked between the lamp in her hand, her beaten leather boots and her mother’s velvety fur shoes, feeling that awful sensation of inappropriateness gnawing inside her chest once again. This woman was soft and well-dressed, a stark contrast to her own figure. She wondered, what did Emma see when she looked at her? Was she disappointed? Annoyed? Was she-?

A strange little noise - somewhere between a sob and a giggle - left the woman in question, drawing Charo’s from her self-doubt and making her lift her eyes from the ground. Emma was staring fixedly at her, tears staining her bruised cheek and lips trembling as they tried to shape up a smile. “C-Charo…” She whispered, laying a shaking palm on her daughter’s cheek. “My Charo… My b-baby…”

Too stunned to respond, Charo could barely remind herself not to drop the oil-lamp herself as her mother wrapped her thin arms around her neck, making her bend her upper back to fit her desperate, _desperate_ embrace. Even Corvell remained silent, opting to leave his place at the top of her head and find a new spot on Angor’s shoulder.

“I missed you so much,” Emma breathed out. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or you love and I’ve made my peace with that. But know that I love you, and there hasn’t been one day I haven’t thought of you.”

Hearing those words tugged into something inside Charo’s heart that even she didn’t know she had. Emotions she didn’t understand melded together and overflowed from her as tears while her hand, now trembling like her mother’s, pressed tentatively against the woman’s back, returning the fierce embrace with hesitation and sorrow.

Steps back, Angor watched the scene unfold with understanding.

* * *

Like most nights, Emma couldn’t stay long in the woods. There was no time for any of them to say everything they wished to, so they settled for incomplete tales and unspoken longings. Still, this was more than any had ever thought possible; in Charo’s case, it was more than she ever thought she would ever _want_. Having a mother had long ago stopped being one of the girl’s ambitions in life.

However, despite the lack of time and words, one matter that was resolved.

_“A letter arrived from Camelot. It seems Morgana will arrive earlier than we expected. She… she should be here in three days’ time, Charo. Will you two be ready for… for what comes next?”_

Emma’s words caused Angor and Charo to exchange a look of shock. Their first instinct was to deny her, to say _no_ , they would not be ready for this was _not what they had agreed on_. They were supposed to have a month still; three days was much too soon for goodbyes. And just from looking at them, Emma understood exactly what was going through their heads, because the same doubts, fears and denials had invaded her own thoughts when she left Charo15 years ago. So she waited patiently for them, even though every second she spent outside the castle increased the chances of her husband discovering her escapade, and punishing her for it.

However, faster than she expected, Charo and Angor Rot turned back to her with the same resolutive, pained shadow in their eyes. _Like father, like daughter._ They accepted her news with elegance and planned for the day to come, knowing that Emma wouldn’t be able to meet them again until the day came for Charo to leave.

And that’s how they left that night. With half-tales, unspoken longings and steadfast acceptance weighing heavily in their hearts.


End file.
